


don't know what this will lead to

by ludovicianus



Category: Transformers: Beast Wars
Genre: Consent Issues, Dubious Consent, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Medical Examination, Oviposition, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex, Size Difference, Size Kink, Violent Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-24
Updated: 2019-05-24
Packaged: 2020-03-13 19:41:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18947533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ludovicianus/pseuds/ludovicianus
Summary: Rampage has been acting strangely, Tarantulas investigates for vague nefarious reasons and gets far more than he bargained for.





	don't know what this will lead to

**Author's Note:**

> I just want Tarantulas to be completely out of his depth and that just doesn't get written enough ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ (tbf there isn't that much BW fic in the first place, all you guys are doing the lord's work)  
> Rampage is a convenient catalyst because i don't reeeeally ship Tarantulas with anyone? In my heart of hearts I know he's incel :'(
> 
> Enjoy the self indulgent crap, or not, whatever. It's just pure weird kink. That's all. Don't expect quality storytelling.

It did not escape the ever-lurking spider's notice when Rampage's behaviour began to shift. In combat, the sadistic crab's attack patterns had become more brutal than even Tarantulas had anticipated, Maximal and Predacon alike were lucky no one had been fatally wounded yet. Outside battle, though, the large Predacon was reclusive, even moreso than normal, and seemed fidgety and irate when going about his duties.

Something was up, and the eagerly meddling Tarantulas had to get to the bottom of this, theories already running through his chaotic processor.

Observations were the easy part. Tarantulas was certainly no stranger to sneaking around, and even with Rampage's recent avoidance of everyone in the Predacon base, he was difficult to miss when carrying out compulsory tasks assigned to him. Still, observance proved inconclusive. Tarantulas had to find a way to run some physical tests, and perhaps he could convince Megatron that this needed to be done...

\--

As it turned out, Megatron was already frustrated with Rampage's recent behaviour, which worked heavily in Tarantulas' favour. The scientist easily arranged a time for Rampage to be sent to his lab to try and resolve his "issues", giving himself some time to prepare for the experiments he wanted to run. Making sure the equipment was sterilised and calibrated properly, pre-measuring some chemicals, and of course stowing a powerful sedative within reach, just in case of overly large and aggressive Predacons living up to their name inside the lab.

As the spider was finishing his preparations, Rampage stalked into the lab suddenly, giving Tarantulas a fright he'd deny. He gave an annoyed grunt before he spoke.

"...Megatron told me you wanted to see me?" Rampage's arms were crossed over his body, back hunched slightly. Strangely defensive for the usually brash mech, Tarantulas noted.

"Ah yes, I need to run a few tests. Standard protocol and all that." Tarantulas snickered, which would've been suspicious from anyone else. "Sit, please." He gestured to a nearby seat, definitely designed with larger mecha in mind, but low enough to the ground that he wouldn't have to struggle to reach anything.

Rampage reluctantly did as he was told and, soon enough, Tarantulas began. An energon test was first on the agenda, the results of which would be processed while the scientist performed other tests. Rampage seemed strangely uncomfortable with the procedure and Tarantulas took extra care to avoid drawing his ire. Physical examination came next and the subject of the testing became increasingly restless as Tarantulas began surveying him.

"Increased core temperature... Accelerated sparkrate..." The spider muttered to himself as he worked, chatter punctuated by the occasional manic giggle. "Hm, accelerat _ing_ sparkrate."

"Enough." Rampage couldn't take the proximity any longer, voice fierce but hoarse. "Stop prodding me. If you're trying to figure out what's wrong with me, I already know."

"Well? What is it then?" Tarantulas was entirely unimpressed. And after all the trouble he went through.

"Simply put," Rampage practically growled out the words, "my body desperately wants me to interface with someone. And if you don't let me leave right now, that someone is going to be _you_."

Though Rampage's words were intended as a threat, Tarantulas paused to consider. Rampage moved to stand up, interpreting Tarantulas' silence as shock, but was stopped by the sensation of a small, clawed hand on his chest.

"Hold on. I think I'll do it."

Rampage knew the spider was raving mad, but he hadn't expected this from anyone at all. After a moment to recollect himself, he responded.

"Are you sure about this?" His voice was slightly less menacing than it otherwise would be due to sheer surprise, but the difference was negligible with such a generally menacing cybertronian.

"Not in the slightest." At least Tarantulas was being honest. "But I can't help but be curious about the cause of this effect..." he trailed off, theorising of what knowledge might be gained.

"Your decision." Rampage shrugged dismissively, standing up to his full height. In the shadow of the monster, Tarantulas couldn't help but feel small. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea... But the spider had little time to react when he was grasped around his midsection with no warning.

Tarantulas' optic widened as Rampage held him up with a single hand and pressed his now-struggling form against the wall, spider legs twitching in a vain attempt to free himself. Rampage let out a thoughtful hum as his unoccupied hand drifted down to the spider's pelvic plating. Said hand stroked the modesty panel with a surprising gentleness, at least attempting to coax it open instead of forcing it.

"Open." The larger Predacon hissed into Tarantulas' audio receptor with some barely-masked desperation. After circling the cover of the spider's valve a few more times, Rampage heard a faint click before the panel slowly slid open. His fingers found their way to the newly revealed organ, stroking experimentally between soft mesh folds that were already beginning to slicken with lubricant.

Tarantulas let out a desperate, choked gasp at the sudden contact, struggling anew in Rampage's hold. Rampage let out a chuckle as he nonchalantly slid a finger inside, causing the spider to freeze up momentarily. The digit's passage wasn't entirely smooth, but it was obvious that Tarantulas was genuinely enjoying the situation, considering how wet he already was from minimal stimulation. Moving his finger around, Rampage could tell the spider was nowhere near ready for a larger penetration yet, as much as he wanted to just bend Tarantulas over a bench and relieve his condition. He was just too damn tight, and the massive Predacon would have to work for it.

Rampage carelessly forced another finger in alongside the first, eliciting a hissed ' _careful_ ' from Tarantulas. He stilled his hand for a moment before reluctantly removing the offending finger. Rampage never claimed to be an expert at this.

Resigning himself to the slow road, Rampage began to finger Tarantulas with as much care as he could muster, which was admittedly not a lot. Tarantulas' patience began to wear thin, probing finger doing a wonderful job of just barely avoiding the bulk of his sensors most of the time, and otherwise jabbing them in a way that caused more discomfort than anything else.

"Stop." Tarantulas demanded, body thrashing violently to force the crab to pay attention. The action worked too well, prompting Rampage to drop the spider, who barely managed to land on his feet.

Huffing indignantly, Tarantulas stalked past a confused and increasingly desperate Rampage to the chair said Predacon had been in minutes ago.

"I'll do it myself." Tarantulas splayed his thighs obscenely, claw quickly plunging deep into the wet folds of his valve. Rampage was equally irritated, stunned, and painfully turned-on (though that had been a constant for the past week or so anyway). The scientist continued his impromptu show, pressing the claw deeper still and bringing the knuckle of his thumb into contact with his outer node.

He continued like this, thrusting the claw around hastily until fear and anticipation pushed him to press the tip of his other claw to his valve rim. The spider was eerily silent as it began to stretch him, far beyond two of Rampage's fingers, slowly bottoming out on his unconventional digits. Despite his best efforts, Tarantulas clamped down hard on the claws stretching him too far, causing him to break the quiet with a soft sound, somewhere between a grunt and a whimper.

Rampage felt more awkward than he thought possible, at a complete loss for what to do. Tarantulas, meanwhile, was giving himself a moment to get more comfortable. Rampage took this lull in activity to lean over the hunched spider, seizing his chelicerae with his own mouthparts in an approximation of a kiss, one of pure lust with no illusion of affection. Tarantulas kissed back with little hesitation, beginning to work himself open further.

Rampage pulled away after several long seconds, leaving both arthropods in a slight daze. Tarantulas' digits were finally entirely engulfed by his valve, and with that Rampage busied himself with opening his own panel at last.

Spike mostly pressurised and valve practically leaking, it took mere moments for Rampage to bring himself to full hardness, the show in front of him now dangerously enticing. He entertained the idea of trying to fit his spike into Tarantulas' mouth, but the spider's intake was no doubt small and tearing up his throat tubing was not ideal at present (though Rampage was tempted to file that thought away for later).

With Rampage standing over him, clearly more than ready to go, Tarantulas conceded, removing his claws with a louder-than-expected squelch. He was ready as he'd ever be, or so he thought as he finally sat up properly to get a look at Rampage's unfortunately proportionate spike. Tarantulas felt his valve clench, the lines between fear and anticipation indeterminable as the figure loomed over him. He had half a mind to call this off, but the other half wouldn't have it. He'd be at a net loss if he were to turn back now, and who knows if the crab would even let him. Tarantulas also noted the shape was a little off, but some beast modes had much stranger effects on cybertronian genitalia. This was acceptable.

Rampage was clearly pleased when Tarantulas leaned back completely once more, legs spread, leaking valve on display. Seeing the spider so vulnerable sent an anticipatory shudder through his frame, it would be so easy to crush any number of vital systems and offline him permanently... Too bad there would be consequences for that. And he wouldn't be nearly as fun for what was to come.

Rampage lifted Tarantulas half off the chair by his legs with ease, but the angle proved still too low for comfortable penetration. Plan B was to lift the spider up entirely, manhandling him into a penetrable position against his own vast chest.

With little warning Tarantulas could feel Rampage against his sensitive valve mesh, sliding against his lips momentarily before finding the entrance and pushing in, causing him to gasp with the sudden large intrusion. Mercifully, Rampage didn't just force the whole thing in at once, the few inches inside already causing Tarantulas discomfort as his frame worked frantically to adapt to the girth. Still, Tarantulas gritted himself, sure he could take more given time to adjust.

Unfortunately for the scientist, any resolve Rampage may have had was quickly wearing thin. A momentary reprieve was granted, the massive Predacon pulled out to the very tip, before slamming half of his very large spike deep into Tarantulas' straining valve. A sound, somewhere between a scream and a moan, left the spider, legs thrashing with no solid surface to brace on.

Rampage was truly huge in comparison, and while Tarantulas wanted to berate him for such carelessness, the harsh stretch of the spike inside him sent electricity down his struts that he wouldn't dare confess to. Tarantulas held his tongue (or lack thereof) and instead focused on trying to get a supportive grip on the crab, legs hooking around as best he could manage.

Rampage began to move, shunting Tarantulas and knocking his attempted bracing astray, forcing him to struggle for a new handhold, claws digging ineffectually into Rampage's shoulders. His pace was jerky and irregular, and he entirely lacked technique when practically bludgeoning his way into the spider, but Tarantulas was so overwhelmed by sensation he hardly noticed, spike inching further inside until it finally hit the back of his valve, causing his back to arch and an indistinct, staticky cry to escape his vocaliser.

Tarantulas' body was already limp in Rampage's not at all gentle embrace, resigning himself to the shameful arousal that came with being manhandled and, frankly, thoroughly dominated. Each time he was lifted and let down again sent charge jolting though Tarantulas' lines.

Rampage continued, every aggressive thrust eliciting moans and shouts from the strutless spider. The overwhelming pleasure and agony threw Tarantulas into a sudden and unexpected overload, valve clenching violently around the thick object deep inside him. An attempt to pull out against the clamping force briefly made the spider worry that his entrails would be forced out of him in the most humiliating way possible, but Rampage reluctantly stilled after a few abortive jerks, waiting for the final aftershocks of Tarantulas' overload to cease before continuing unceremoniously.

The new pace he set was brutal, chasing an elusive overload by lifting the increasingly delirious and oversensitised spider along his length again and again. Tarantulas' thighs had become slick with his own lubricant, leaking out when Rampage lifted him high enough off his spike for the product of his previous overload to escape. A gasp of static was all his glitching vocaliser could manage as Rampage gave a final hard thrust into his overly sensitive channel, almost managing to bottom out in the now very much loosened orifice. Tarantulas could vaguely feel a hot burst of fluid at the end of his valve, unable to escape into his overflow tank or otherwise out. He let out a delirious giggle.

It was at this point Tarantulas expected to be dropped and left in his own mess, exhausted frame no better than any fragtoy in this state. Rampage, however, did not even pull himself out of the spider, instead manoeuvring his limp form to a nearby bench, clearing it hastily by sending some unfortunate stray glassware shattering to the floor, and placing Tarantulas on the freshly unoccupied surface. It was at this point the barely-lucid scientist noticed Rampage was still pouring hot fluid into him, steadily building pressure prompting a request to open his overflow tank. He accepted the prompt without thinking, allowing the fluid to drain deeper into his abdomen.

Tarantulas let himself bask in afterglow, the presence of another almost a comfort despite just who said presence happened to be. It was nice to have someone who seemingly wanted to stick around. Unfortunately the relaxation was short-lived, broken by a growing pressure at the rim of his valve that fast became too much to ignore.

"Wh-wha..." Tarantulas' vocaliser faded out and he was forced to manually reboot it, just in time for the strange pressure to begin stretching him open even further.

The spider let out a short shout as it reached the widest point, the stretch to the very limit of his capacity. Agonisingly slowly, the object slid in until it was engulfed completely, Tarantulas' vocaliser unable to spit anything but static once more. The shape slid over oversensitive nodes at a snail's pace, very quickly driving Tarantulas mad, though Rampage had him too well-pinned on the bench for him to do more than squirm futilely.

Tarantulas thought the object had stopped when it hit the back of his valve, however he failed to account for his already unsealed overflow tank, forgetting about it until he felt an incessant pushing on its opening. Though normally the aforementioned opening was far too small for such a large object, the pressure soon had Tarantulas feeling an unfamiliar transformation within himself, only realising what exactly was happening when he felt the object squeeze through the newly widened entrance, depositing itself inside with a heavy weight. A tremor shook through the spider, revulsion and arousal stemming from the foreign sensation inside him. Before Tarantulas had any more time to react, another shape could be felt attempting entry, pressing against his valve rim until it slid in, significantly more smoothly than the first one.

It was strange, but not necessarily unpleasant to be skewered on Rampage's thick spike, only to be stretched even further by the large eggs–they could only be called that, Tarantulas could not hypothesise any other explanation.

With the second egg slowly crawling over all his internal nodes, pressed practically taut against the object, Tarantulas could already feel new charge crackling in his extremities. As it reached the widened opening to the spider's tank, a third could also be felt at his battered entrance, sliding in as its companion dropped into Tarantulas' overflow tank. The dual sensations caused an involuntary spasm through his frame, body attempting to hold off another overload. Every movement pushed his charge higher, and Tarantulas knew he would likely be knocked offline if it built up any further, systems increasingly straining to process the sensory input.

Sure enough, Tarantulas was tipped into another overload seconds later, his systems knocked him unconscious, unable to take the data. He rebooted no more than 2 minutes afterwards, according to his internal chronometer, but he felt much heavier in his abdomen than he had previously. Evidently Rampage had not stopped and at least a couple more eggs had been deposited inside his tank. Tarantulas vaguely wondered if Rampage had even noticed he'd been offline.

With a shunt, Tarantulas was suddenly acutely aware that two more spheroids were pushing into his chamber. The objects struggled to find space in the small organ, and with their addition Tarantulas knew he was full, his stomach beginning to strain uncomfortably. Pinned as he was, there was nothing he could do as yet another egg breached his entrance.

Tarantulas heard distant cackling and it took a moment to realise the sound was coming from his own vocaliser.

Finally, after the last egg forced its way as far inside the spider as possible, Rampage pulled out of him. Tarantulas could barely see the other, functionality of most of his body a lost cause for now. Unexpectedly, he felt himself be lifted from the bench and he was carried in large arms. He pushed weakly against the vast chest he was cradled against in protest when he heard the sound of his lab door opening, but still Rampage carried him outside. The next thing Tarantulas could clearly identify was his own berth as he was placed on it gently, more gently than expected.

There was barely enough space for Rampage in the berth too, but Tarantulas was hardly conscious enough to protest him lying down next to him.

Rampage murmured something under his breath, but Tarantulas couldn't make it out as he finally slipped into a proper recharge.

\--

Tarantulas awoke to a low power warning, and a whole lot more trouble than he wanted. Rampage was still sleeping across most of his berth, every part of his body hurt, and he'd definitely missed a scheduled meeting with Megatron. Not to mention he'd left his lab in an unforgivable state.

There was also the other matter, that of the absurd quantity of Rampage's... offspring still inside the him. He dreaded every possible outcome of their occupation. If Rampage refused to let him remove them, there could be... complications. On the other claw, if the eggs–no longer in the heat of the moment that word felt borderline sickening to Tarantulas–were somehow viable, the spawn of such a unique and powerful mechanism could be incredibly useful.

Either way, Tarantulas would prefer them out as soon as physically possible.

Which wasn't going to be, at the very least, until Rampage's massive bulk woke up and let him out of his corner of the berth. Until then, Tarantulas would just have to wait, pressure in his abdomen and dented body insistent reminders that for now, he was entirely stuck here. And he had no one to blame but himself.

**Author's Note:**

> This might get a sorta sequel/second chapter at some point idk, facefucking with Tarantulas' mouth is hot.


End file.
